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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24141283">Tacenda</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoamphibians/pseuds/homoamphibians'>homoamphibians</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emmett Cullen is a bean, Emmett Cullen is adorable, F/M, Only Kind Of Murder I support, Past Rape/Non-con, Rosalie Hale Deserves Better, Rosalie Hale being a BAMF, Rosalie Hale is a Victim who Needs a Hug, Torture, Trauma, We Stan Rosalie Hale, Wedding Dress, Weddings, in depth descriptions of torture, ramble fic, rosalie torturing her rapists</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:13:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,925</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24141283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoamphibians/pseuds/homoamphibians</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On Rosalie's wedding day some things come up that would be better off forgotten.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tacenda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On her wedding day, she didn't wear white. </p><p>White was the traditional color, symbolic for beauty and innocence. </p><p>But while she was beautiful, she sure as hell wasn't innocent. </p><p>She had assumed she would wear white, everyone had. Rosalie Hale was the picture of a beautiful bride. Her flowing golden hair would be pinned back with an extravagant diamond encrusted hair clip, her ivory skin would sparkle with the power of a thousand suns, her amber eyes would be framed by long lashes, carefully painted in a way to bring the attention to her eyes, her neck would be adorned with the necklace that her adoptive mother had presented her purely for this occasion, and her thin body would be clothed in an ever more extravagant white, traditional, wedding dress that had a train longer than her first life. </p><p>She couldn't bring herself to put it on because she had done this before. </p><p>She had been a picture perfect bride before. She had spent hours making herself look as beautiful as possible wearing the most extravagant wedding dress a person could find, and she had looked for days until she had found the perfect one. The one that made her woman of any man's dreams. </p><p>It was symbolic. She was a dream to look at until she became everyone's worst nightmare. </p><p>One by one. </p><p>The first man had died too quickly. He barely had recognized her with a "Roy's fiancee? I thought you were dead," before she snapped his neck. It had barely taken any energy for her to do so and he crumpled to the ground easily. Too easily. He had no time to think about what he had done, he had no remorse, no begging her to stop, no pleading for his life. He didn't get to understand what karma really was, no, he didn't get to understand who karma was. </p><p>Karma was the picturesque bride who answered to the name of Rosalie Hale and she would not extend her mercy again. </p><p>The first was a test, see how much pressure she could put on a human being without spilling a drop of blood. </p><p>It was important not to spill blood. </p><p>The inflicter of her second life had warned her that human blood was addicting to abominations such as the one he had made her into. Once it was spilled, she would not be able to stop herself from consuming it, her mind would be gone and she would be a victim to her body's desires. </p><p>Disgusting. </p><p>She wanted to be fully aware of what was happening, fully aware of the pain she was inflicting. She wanted to feel her victims life drain from their bodies, not drain her victims life from their bodies. There was a difference. Patience. </p><p>Not to mention the fact she had already had these victims inside of her and there was no way a part of their disgusting existence would ever touch her again. </p><p>This also explained the gloves. </p><p>The second was a different kind of test, an experiment in types of torture. </p><p>She had read up on types of torture. It was funny, she had never been the reading type. She preferred fashion or nature over intellect and her parents encouraged those pursuits. But once she had found the book that detailed things that no human being should ever do to keep their soul intact, she had read it at an alarming speed, and she had enjoyed it. </p><p>Further proof that she was a soulless monster. </p><p>She used to hate her red eyes, the fact that they were so different from her beautiful purple eyes that were as lovely as violets. </p><p>But violets held no meaning in her life now and her red eyes symbolized that she wasn't Rosalie Hale anymore. </p><p>She wasn't an innocent pretty little girl who just wanted a baby to call her own and to have someone love her as much as she loved herself. No she was a monster whose only thoughts were on blood lust and revenge. </p><p>It was fitting, better that way. </p><p>It meant she could have no guilt for the murders she committed because a monster did that, not her. There was no reason for guilt if one had no humanity in them and her humanity was stripped away by the men who she wanted so deeply to kill. And the beauty of that was they got to see exactly what their actions led to, who she had become because of a "little bit of fun" in an alleyway one fateful night. </p><p>Humans drowned very easily, leaving little time for fun. </p><p>The third was another sort of experiment. </p><p>He had went up rather quickly and the whole room had burst into flames. </p><p>Her shoes had gotten burnt from that, a shame really because her first pair of shoes were oh so much prettier than the second pair she had settled with. </p><p>The fourth she had broken his legs to start off with. </p><p>After his panic grew, she promised him that she would stop if he delivered a message. He had gotten on the phone immediately, telling Royce that his "psycho fiancee was killing everyone of his friends and that Royce would be next." It was such a lovely delivery. </p><p>Rosalie had rewarded his dialogue with a quick snapping of his neck. A simple, relatively painless death. </p><p>Her words after all, according to this men, meant nothing. If she could beg them to stop and scream in pain without her words meaning anything, than why would her words now matter? </p><p>She had not planned on killing the fifth or the sixth. They were guards that Royce had hired since he was afraid that she would come get him. </p><p>Royce didn't understand that nothing could save him from the incarnate of Hell. </p><p>It was a small, windowless room that he had locked himself into. No one was around, except the two corpses outside the door. </p><p>Rosalie could not have picked a better place herself. </p><p>His safe haven, the place he had chosen to protect himself would be his final resting place. </p><p>He was whimpering with fear when she arrived, crying in a corner. </p><p>How miserable.</p><p>Like he had a reason to cry. </p><p>Nothing had happened to him yet, she hadn't even begun to have her fun yet. </p><p>She had tossed a fresh bouquet of red roses at his feet, signalling her arrival. </p><p>"Rose," he had pleaded. </p><p>"Rose," she repeated, "is dead. You killed her. I, my beloved, am your reckoning. Your trial is over, your judgement has been passed and you have been deemed not worthy."</p><p>It was 82 minutes of torture exactly before she killed him. </p><p>First was the water boarding, she made careful not to drown him. He had to suffer for the full time, just like she did, counting the minutes, waiting for it to stop, pleading for it to stop to uncaring ears. </p><p>"I was walking home at night when you noticed me from an alleyway with your group of friends. You were intoxicated of course and gestured for me to come over. Me being an obedient fiancee, did as you said." </p><p>Next she broke each of his toes, staring him down as she did so. </p><p>"You were laughing, introducing me to all of your friends. You said that I was your lovely fiancee Rose and was the prettiest creature a man did meet. I was flattered but insisted that I needed to go home."</p><p>Next was the fingers, one by one. </p><p>"You wrapped an arm around me, I smelled the intoxication on your breath and told you you were drunk and that I needed to go home. One of your friends said that 'it's hard to see the beauty she has with all of these clothes on'. You started removing my clothes and I pushed you away until another friend held my arms around my back."</p><p>She broke his femurs next. </p><p>"Your friends whistled when I was completely nude and held there for anyone to behold. I started crying, pleading with you to go home now, saying that we could forget about all of this and move on. But you were not satisfied with just seeing me nude." </p><p>The ribs went next. Humans have 24 fragile ribs that can easily be broken. </p><p>"You all took turns, using me, stripping me of any dignity I had left. It hurt more than anything. It felt like fire burning throughout me, I thought you had lit my body on fire but no you all decided to dirty me as if I was a common prostitute and not Rosalie Lillian Hale, a respectable woman that could have any man she chose but she had foolishly chosen a maggot rather than a man."</p><p>He passed out at this point. </p><p>She marked how long the torture had been and waited for him to wake up. </p><p>As soon as he woke up again, she continued. </p><p>Next came the match that she placed near his skin, making sure to burn every hair on his arms and legs. </p><p>"I counted the minutes instead of focusing on the pain. I desperately wished to go unconscious or die, just to not feel this anymore. But you kept on going, hitting me, doing unspeakable things to me for 82 minutes. It was 82 minutes before I could no longer be responsive, I was still alive unfortunately. You dropped me on the ground, thinking me dead and ran home with your buddies." </p><p>She poured gasoline on him at his point, ignoring his sputtering as some got into his mouth. </p><p>He would not live long enough for the toxicity of it being in his system to actually matter. </p><p>"I spent another ten minutes on the ground, waiting to die. But death did not come. Instead the devil came and claimed me as his own, as his daughter. He understood the hell I had been through and placed me in charge of justice. This is your justice, this is what is fair. Your beautiful bride by your side as you die. How romantic." </p><p>She had tossed a violet at him. </p><p>"You complimented my eyes, said they were like a meadow of violets that you could easily find yourself lost in. Do you, Rosalie Hale, sentence this man to death? I do. With the power vested in me, I pronounce you, Royce, a sinner. You may now die." </p><p>She had learned from her mistakes and had set the room aflame after leaving it. </p><p>So no she didn't wear white at her wedding. She did not wear anything resembling a wedding gown. There were no roses or violets or maggots. The wedding was beautiful and extravagant but she had worn a a simple pastel pink gown. </p><p>No one had worn white. </p><p>Emmett had worn a gray suit with a pink shirt, no questions asked. He had loved the color theme, said it matched her perfectly. </p><p>Pink did not mean innocence, it meant love, affection, and femininity.</p><p>Their wedding was not the fairy-tale wedding she had planned with Royce, but they loved each other. </p><p>Emmett loved her and cared for her more than any man could. He adored her, called her his angel, and didn't care what had been done to her in the past or what murders she had committed. </p><p>He knew everything about her and loved her even more for it. </p><p>There was no need to be the perfect bride if it was the perfect marriage.</p><p>There was no need to wear white if the groom accepted her sins. </p><p>And he did. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not entirely sure why I wrote this, just opened up a document and felt possessed to write this ramble and yeah.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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